Lucky
by Phoebe Miller
Summary: 7.18 Coda - A short continuation of the dinner scene. No huge revelations. Someone gets swatted with a towel. Sadly Steve still isn't getting his name on Danny's restaurant. Doesn't mean he won't stop trying. I have no idea how to tag this and I stink at summaries.


_**I know some of you might be waiting for more Hewa. No worries. Another chapter is on the way. The muse needed a break from the crazy and decided to pop out this little bit of fluff. Enjoy!**_

* * *

Lou's words echoed in his head. The reality was clear and surprisingly jarring.

 _They were the target._

How had he missed this?

It was only dumb luck that had saved them. Dumb luck with a bullet in his shoulder.

"We better get back inside, Lou."

"Yea. You wanna tell them?"

"After dinner. We don't need to worry everyone."

"You're right. Good plan." Lou hitched up his pants and grinned. "I still have a date with my plate. Danny really is a fabulous cook."

"He is, isn't he?"

Lou went in first while Steve hung back. He smiled, watching his friends. He hadn't seen Danny so relaxed in ages. _In his element_. Taking care of his ohana. And the food was fantastic. Somehow, he would convince Danny to name the restaurant Steve's.

He'd never thought about retiring. Once upon a time, he had fully expected to die on the job. In the line of duty. Danny made him want more. Another life. Hell, even maybe a restaurant. _Why not?_ He did love a challenge, and bickering over menu choices could be fun. And a hell of a lot less dangerous.

But someone out there wanted them dead. This was really nothing new, of course; they had many enemies. What shocked him was the method. A dirty bomb. The collateral damage would have been -

He needed to stop thinking so much. It could wait til morning.

Danny greeted Lou and then regarded Steve suspiciously before going back to playing the gracious host. His stomach fluttered at that one quick glance. His partner could talk the paint off a house but his eyes were killer. So much could be said with just a flash of those baby blues.

Steve had been harboring a secret since the transplant. And as much as he wanted to blame his newfound affection on their shared body part - he couldn't.

But how could he tell Danny they'd been the target all along?

Or worse. That they'd been blindsided in the first place. That fact shook him more than his feelings for his partner.

And Steve loved Danny. _Hopelessly_.

Even though, the softer he got, the more prickly his best friend became. Like today.

Equal and opposite reaction. That's what it was. But he knew the truth.

Danny loved him back. In his own often infuriating way.

But none of it mattered if they didn't figure out who was gunning for them.

"Yo Steven."

Danny startled him.

"You comin back? Dinner's getting cold."

"Yea okay, man. Wouldn't want that. After you slaved over a hot stove."

"That's right."

"Those are some awesome meatballs."

"Thank you." Danny flashed a smile. "Just get back in here, would you?"

Steve didn't move. Danny noticed and moved in closer.

"Hey, what's up? I saw you and Lou talking."

"Not now, Danny."

"Alright. Let's finish dinner. Clean up."

Steve was surprised by Danny's agreeable mood. He just stood there, mouth hanging open.

Danny elbowed his best friend. "Come on, you big goof. Food's getting cold. What's left of it anyway. Kame and Flippa hit it pretty hard."

"Yea, okay, sounds good." Steve managed to say a few words, basking in Danny's sun. What a difference a few hours made.

"Hey you mind if we stay over? I gotta give Charlie a bath."

He twitched at Danny's lame excuse to spend the night, but played along anyway. "Yea he looks like he really enjoyed dinner."

"I don't know what gets into him. He wears more than he eats."

Steve laughed.

"And don't say he gets that from me, babe."

"If the shoe fits. Or should I say - if the sauce matches?" He couldn't help but tease his partner.

"No, he's more like _you_ , Steven. You're lucky you have a good dry cleaner. Who I recommended by the way."

Danny poked Steve in the ribs and returned to their friends, Steve tagging along behind him.

"Alright, who's ready for dessert?"

The gang roared their approval and Danny disappeared into the kitchen.

Lou dabbed his mouth. "Where does he get the energy? I'm exhausted just from eating."

"See what did I tell you about those meatballs?" Sang Min scolded. "If you took better-"

"Shut it, bad hair day."

"That all you got?"

Steve leaned in and whispered in Kono's ear. "He picked up dessert in town."

"What?" Flippa overheard. "Jersey didn't-"

"I didn't what?" Danny held a tray of cannoli. He surveyed the crowd and then glared at his partner. "You told them, didn't you? I asked you nicely-"

Steve covered his mouth with his napkin to keep from laughing as Charlie dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Ha ha! Uncle Steve tattled on you!"

"He did!" Danny blushed. "It's been a long day. And fine, no I didn't make these. Enjoy them, you ungrateful-"

He dropped the tray on the table with a slap as everyone cheered and reassured him. Pausing, he pointed toward Steve.

"And just so you know. I'm NOT naming my restaurant after you!"

Danny went back outside in a huff. Steve followed at a close distance.

"Hey Danno, you alright?"

"Today's just catching up with me."

"Yea, I get it."

"My head hurts and my ears are still ringing."

"Sorry about that."

"Sorry? For what?" Danny wrinkled his nose, looking like he was about to smack his partner.

"Crashing the truck."

"You saved our lives."

"So did you."

"Please - let's not." Danny rubbed his eyes. "What'd Lou tell you?"

Steve looked away, hands in his pockets. He wasn't ready.

Danny steered them another direction. "I should have told you, okay? I'm sorry."

"It's ok. I get it."

"I just - sometimes - I can't breathe."

He had Steve's full attention again.

"You and me. We're so close. I wasn't sure how to tell you."

"I think about retiring."

"What? You're lying."

"No, I do. Now."

"Now?"

"With you."

"You're giving me mixed signals here, Steve."

"I always figured I'd die on the job."

"Go down in a hail of bullets." Danny rolled his eyes.

"Something like that." Steve shrugged.

"But now?"

"Now I'm thinking about opening a restaurant."

Danny punched him.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Laughter drifted from the house and the wind picked up. Steve leaned in a little closer and Danny let him.

"So Lou? The phone call. Wait, you don't have to tell me."

Steve didn't mince words. "We were the target."

"What?"

"You heard me." He kept his voice low.

Danny did the same. "The dirty bomb."

"It was meant for us. The governor. HPD."

"Her visit." Danny got it.

Steve tried not to sound distressed, but he was anxious for answers. "How did we not know?"

"Well, for one, we aren't perfect." Danny tugged on his apron, straightening it. "Bad guys - they tend to be very creative. And secretive."

"But we catch them."

"Normally, yea."

Steve frowned and his exhale came out as more of a growl.

"Hey. We were lucky today. Let's just be thankful."

"This time." Steve looked at his feet rather than his friend.

Danny bumped him with his hip. "And who knows - maybe we would have gotten wind of it. Stopped them before - "

"Look at you. The optimist."

"No, I'm just not letting my mind wander. Not tonight. We stopped them. End of story."

"Except it isn't."

They stared at one another for a beat or two. Steve was right.

"We don't know who did this, Danny."

"I bet if we put our heads together, we'll figure it out. Before they try again."

"Stop." Steve smiled, shaking his head.

"What?" Danny was confused.

"You're freakin me out."

"Must be the food."

"Yea, it was excellent, buddy."

"Yea?" Danny's grin lit up the night.

Steve couldn't help messing with him. "Yea. Steve's will be a huge success."

"Hey, I told you already. I'm not calling my place Steve's. Get over yourself."

Steve laughed and slapped Danny roughly across the back. "Face it. You're stuck with me. I know just the spot for our restaurant. And Kamekona can help us with suppliers."

Danny laughed. "You know I love you, right?"

He nodded, very sure of himself. "I do."

"Then would you stop torturing me, huh?"

No way was Steve letting Danny off the hook. "Not a chance. It's good for you. And you're not _that_ lucky."

"Come on, you. We have guests to feed."

"After you." Steve gestured for his partner to lead the way.

"You won't be so enthusiastic when I put you on clean up duty." He shoved Steve toward the house.

Over his shoulder, looking all kinds of smug, Steve couldn't resist one more dig. "I already told you, you're not that lucky, pal."

"We'll see about that." Danny swatted Steve's ass with the dish towel he'd had slung over his shoulder.


End file.
